Punk was never about a signature sound, it was never about a fashion, and it was never even really a scene, well, perhaps for a couple of years in the late seventies, around a few, mainly London-based venues. No, it was an attitude, an outlook, a world view, and if it was ever about revolution, it was a personal one, a call to do things your own way, be an individual.
Which is why Barking Poets, although they make music that is more akin to power-pop (which is where punk started anyway… Buzzcocks, anyone?), they are about as punk as it gets. Like I say, it’s all in the attitude. They have plenty of it.
Although their latest one, “Losing Contact,” could perhaps be described as prog-punk, an oxymoron if ever there was one, at least to those who haven’t really understood what I have written above. (John Lydon admitted that he loved Van De Graaff Generator, so deal with it). If Bowie sang of the lonely Major Tom isolated in space, the Poets aim their sentiments at a similarly unnamed explorer also “floating ‘round their tin can.”
Here, they grind out big alt-rock riffs, salvos of punk swagger and infectious beats, big fist-in-the-air, singalong choruses, a power-pop frenzy of grit and groove. And then, just when all the other punk bands would have knocked things on the head and moved on, they instead choose to wind things up with an ever-evolving, anthemic and awesome outro (ohh, the old school punks won’t like such rockisms), the sort of thing that most alt-rock bands worth their salt will listen to and think, “damn, I wish I had written that.”
Yes, punk is an attitude, and Barking Poets not only have it, they have it in spades.
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